Consequences
by Mayclore
Summary: Confronted with the end in Gideon Gleeful's hour of victory, the Pines and Soos are forced to fight back with the ultimate weapon.


A victorious Gideon Gleeful stood over the dumbfounded Pines, clutching in his left hand the deed to the Mystery Shack. "I win, Stanford," he said, waving the paper around. "All this is mine! Get off my property!"

Dipper and Mabel glanced at each other, horrified. Soos was looking around the house itself, as if expecting it to change into something new now that Gideon held ownership.

Stan, however, simply grinned from his spot on the floor. "No you don't."

Gideon would not be dissuaded from his notion of victory so easily. "Of course I do! I have the deed! Possession is nine-tenths of the law!"

The look on the old man's face would have been easiest to describe as Babe Ruth seeing a fat, tumbling baseball headed toward him at the plate; it was the visage of someone about to burst a bubble with a nuclear bomb. "Kid, look at the bottom line."

The psychic, blank-faced and confused, did just that. "It has your signature on it. So what?"

Stan sat up and dusted off his shoulders. "That's what counts, gremlin. Whoever has their John Hancock on that line is the rightful holder of this property."

"Well, I can remove that. I have ways!" Gideon laughed as evilly as he could manage, but the noise still attracted a muted 'aw' from Soos and Mabel's lips. The reaction he had most interest in, however, was the smirk on Stan's face. "What? Stop smiling!"

Dipper was getting the drift faster than anyone else, and crawled over to sit on Stan's left. "But that's not the only copy of the deed."

Gideon's jaw slammed into the floor. "Wh-what...?"

The old man nodded approvingly, then slapped Dipper on the back so hard he doubled over and mumbled in pain. "Good point, kid. The town hall has a copy of all deeds, 'cause that's part of the way they calculate the property taxes I never pay."

"Fine! I've got more dynamite!" Gideon tucked the deed into the inner pocket of his jacket and prepared to walk out. "I will see you prostrate on the ground at my feet before the sun sets today!"

"Actually, wouldn't you be a terrorist if you blew up the town hall?"

Everyone looked back at Soos as he spoke. The Pines nodded and murmured amongst themselves, while Gideon looked fit to throw something at him.

Dipper was the next to chime in. "He's probably already one, come to think of it. And do you even _have_ an explosives license for that dynamite, man?"

"Like the police here can stop me!" Gideon roared, spit flying from his lips. "I own this town! They're-"

"Do you own the FBI?" Mabel asked abruptly. They all looked down at her as she smiled. "'Cause wouldn't they be handling terrory stuff?"

"He's already used a weapon of mass destruction," Stan pointed out. "On my house, no less! For shame, attacking civilians."

"Wh-wh-wh..." Gideon stared out into space, trying to contemplate where all this was heading.

Mabel threw her arms up in the air. "We should sue!"

That stunned the psychic back into awareness. "Heavens to Betsy! What a ridiculous sugge-"

"I wonder how much your little empire is worth," Stan asked, rubbing his chin and grinning in that way he did whenever money came up. "Fifty million? A hundred?"

Gideon entered a light tantrum, stomping his feet. "You'd never win!"

Stan finally got to his feet and folded his arms. "I wouldn't have to! My lawyers would be doing that stuff. Besides, don't you think I know how the law works? I've made sweet love to the justice systems of multiple countries. In the eighties I practically lived in jail!"

Mabel blanched, then slammed a hand over her mouth. "Made sweet love to the...I think I'm gonna puke..."

"Attorneys would probably line up for a piece of that pie. And just think of the discovery process!" Dipper got up as well, moving to help his sister stand. "I can see it now. 'By the way, I used dynamite to attack the defendant's house, then threatened to do the same to town hall'. I'm sure the judge would appreciate that. Oh, and the usage of magical artifacts? Goodbye adorable Lil' Gideon."

"M-my image?" Gideon swallowed hard, beginning to sweat. "They'd never believe you!"

Stan was ready for that one, too. Not knowing where to go at the moment, he cleared the debris from his chair and sat down. "They wouldn't have to! All I'd need to do is drag the case through appeals and watch your family wither under the weight of legal fees."

"Lawyers really like the words 'billable hours'," Mabel noted, reaching up to steal some of Soos' chips. "Ugh, these taste like turpentine and old shoe."

"Oh, and about the magical stuff?" Dipper walked closer and got face to face with Gideon. "I bet the government would like a word with you. You'll end up in Area 51 or something."

The psychic wilted under his smug gaze. "The desert would ruin my complexion, I can't..."

"Wait! Guys!" They all looked back at Mabel again. "He just tried to kill us _again_. Let's bring him up on attempted murder charges!"

Gideon finally exploded. "Now wait just a cotton-picking minute! I am not gonna go to jail! Do you realize what prison _does_ to people?! What _people_ do to _other_ people _in_ prison?!"

Stan raised his hand, unable to contain his smile. "Sure do, squirtbottle."

Assaulted by their haughty looks, Gideon drew the deed from his pocket and threw it on the floor. "Fine! Take your dumb deed! Just don't throw me in jail!" He waddled at length out the door, yelling incoherently. "I should have stuck with Bill! At least he won't sue me into the ground!"

They all heard a disembodied cackle that made every one of their spines tingle. "Heh, that's right kid! Humans are their own worst enemy! Either that or precedence-based jurisprudence. Eh, probably a combination of both, to be honest." Gideon screamed frustratedly in response, a noise that faded with his distance from the shack.

Dipper glanced over at the old man and blinked. "Grunkle Stan, you know that's not how civil courts work, right? It's the plaintiff that ends up paying most times."

"Of course I do...but _he_ doesn't." Stan winked and grinned. "That was the easiest con I've ever pulled off."

"That _was_ easy," Mabel said, looking around at everyone.

"One problem, though." Dipper thumbed over at the gaping hole in the wall. "Unless we're just gonna turn that into a giant door or something."

Stan rose from his chair and started toward the stairs, nodding for the twins to come along. "Yeah, no kidding. Soos, get to work."

"Yes sir, Mister Pines," he nodded, mouth full of chips.


End file.
